The Creation of the Sword
by Kieran-Prince
Summary: Ghirahim hated the elite demons. They had ruined his life starting from the day he was born. But what should he do when his life is put on the line and his only choice is either to completely trust an elite demon or die?


**A/N: Hey guys. So umm… I made angst. I've had this idea in my mind for a while now. This is one of the few theories that I have for how Ghirahim became Demise's sword. **

**Warning: Yaoi, pre-Skyward Sword, smut, hurt/comfort, implied rape**

**Pairing: DemiGhira**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda**

* * *

"Well well well, look who it is guys."

Ghirahim lifted his head up from his book momentarily to see who it was that was disturbing him. He had come to the open field to get some peace and quiet. The field was often deserted during the afternoon, since most of the demons in town were busy with their work or their studies.

When he saw the familiar gang of demons in front of him, a small burst of fear shot though his veins. Damn! They found him again. The gang of demons had been bullying him every since he had moved to another part of town, near the ragged part of town. They had found out very quick that he didn't have any protection, given the fact that he was an orphan. And all of them exploited that fact.

The demons in front of him were all leering at him, smirks and sadistic grins on their faces. The leader of the group, who also happened to be the largest demon there, watched him with calculating eyes. But despite his apparent physical separation from the group, Ghirahim knew that he was just watching for an opening, in which then he would strike. Squashing down his fear, Ghirahim shut his book loudly and glared at the demons in front of him.

"What do you all want?" Ghirahim asked bitingly.

The demon directly in front of Ghirahim chuckled in amusement, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "No need to be hostile pretty boy. We just want to talk."

Ghirahim scoffed and turned his attention away from the demons momentarily to gather his books. There was no use trying to pick a fight with the demons. They would easily overpower him in an instant, given that they were in a large gang. And that wasn't even bringing up his small stature. He was considerably smaller than all the demons. As that thought came to mind, Ghirahim felt his chest tighten. He hated how weak he was compared to other demons. It made him feel absolutely disgusted with himself. Why was he so weak?

Once he had gathered all his books into his hands, Ghirahim stared to walk away from the gang of demons. However, before he could get very far, someone grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him back and choking him slightly. The books in his hands fell to the ground, landing with a soft thud.

The demon who grabbed onto his collar pulled him back until he was completely surrounded by the other demons. Sadistic laughter sounded around Ghirahim before his collar was released. Ghirahim looked around at all the demons, his body trembling fearfully. He brought one of his hands up to hold onto his long, white hair, which had inevitably fell into his face. It was a nervous habit that he had developed months after his mother died, which had been several decades ago.

But before his hand could even touch his hair, someone else grabbed onto his wrist tightly. A cry left Ghirahim's mouth and he flinched back. More laughter could be heard from the demons as the hand around his wrist tightened.

"Aw, little Ghira's starting to cry," a demon mocked gleefully.

Ghirahim flinched again and he shut his eyes tightly. He could feel his eyes starting to sting due to incoming tears. His throat tightened as a sob threatened to leave his mouth. Ghirahim dug his teeth into his bottom lip, trying desperately to hold back his cries. He couldn't cry around these demons. It would make him appear weaker, giving them more of an excuse to mess with him. However, despite everything that he did, Ghirahim could feel one tear sliding down his cheek, leaving behind a burning, humiliating track of wetness on his face.

A sudden push caused Ghirahim to stumble into one of the demon's arms. As strong arms wrapped around him, effectively trapping him, arother demon moved behind him. A sharp gasp left his mouth as a hand wound itself into his hair, pulling and forcing his head back.

"Such pretty hair you have pretty boy," one of the demons said before pulling Ghirahim's hair harder.

Another cry left Ghirahim's mouth, this time in pain. A few seconds later, sharp nails dragged across the back of his neck. Goosebumps appeared on his skin, spreading all across his neck and arms.

"I wonder how little Ghira will look with all his pretty hair gone…," the demon mused to himself.

Ghirahim froze in horror before he shook his head rapidly. His hair was very important to him, perhaps more important than his well being.

It was the only thing that he had left that reminded him of his mother.

With a strength that Ghirahim didn't know he had, he started kicking and screaming, trying to hit anything that he could reach. A few hits landed, hitting a demon or two. But before he could really do anymore damage, a few demons grabbing onto his arms and legs, making it impossible for him to move all.

The demon holding onto his hair pulled it some more so that Ghirahim could no longer move his head back and forth. The nails dancing along his neck moved away and just seemed to disappear. No demon made a single noise and Ghirahim could feel his stomach tightening up in anticipation. The silence held in the air for a few more minutes and at first, he thought that perhaps the demons were planning something different.

But those thoughts were swiftly gotten rid of when another hand curled into his hair and scratched his scalp. With sharp nails.

"W-wait! Don't-"

A demon moved right in front of Ghirahim, his hand coming up right in front of his face. The demon moved his hand until it was cupping Ghirahim's cheek. "Now Ghira, I don't think you are in any position to demand anything," the demon mocked before he tilted his head up towards the demon behind Ghirahim.

The sound of hair being sliced reached Ghirahim's ears and he felt some of his hair fall back down to hug his scalp. However, the comforting warmth and protection that accompanied his long hair was no there. In fact, there wasn't any hair long enough to touch the back of his neck.

By then, Ghirahim was openly crying. Cries begging for mercy and help rang out in the open field, but nobody came to his rescue. The only thing that he could hear was the laughter of the demons and the slicing of his hair. And the longer that the horrid moment went on, the more sobs and tears that passed though Ghirahim's defenses.

A few minutes later, Ghirahim found himself being thrown onto the ground in a pile of his own cut hair. His tears were falling freely now, his body shaking with the sobs. He brought a shaky hand up to feel his hair - or what was left of it anyway. His fingertips brushed against the ragged edges of his sliced hair, which was no longer down to his mid-back. Now, it was barely touching the back of his neck.

"Heh…it's funny how one little snip can take away so much beauty…," one of the demons said, trailing off towards the end.

The leader of the group, who had been standing in the back for a while, now stepped forward. "Perhaps there's some more of that beauty that we can take," the demon grunted out before removing his belt.

Sounds of realization and understanding echoed throughout the gang of demons before they all turned their attention towards Ghirahim. The demons all spared each other smug glances before reaching down and removing their belts as well.

Ghirahim took in several deep breaths, sniffing loudly as he tried to calm himself down. When the sounds of clothing falling to the ground reached his ears, Ghirahim looked up slowly. At once, his breath left him as though he had been punched in the gut. Most of the demons around Ghirahim were undressing themselves, all while leering at him. There were flashes of lust in their eyes and Ghirahim's chest tightened at the horrible realization.

_"No…,"_ Ghirahim whimpered out, trying to move back.

"Oh yes, Ghirahim. Yes."

In the next few hours, somebody would walk through the field and find an unconscious body, stripped completely naked and covered in sweat, blood, and come. His breath would be ragged and short. There were no witnesses to what happened, but if one had happened to have been there, the only thing that one would forever remember were the painful screams and pitiful cries from the young boy.

* * *

"I'm sorry Lord Demise, but the patient has specifically requested that no demons be allowed into his quarters at any time," the female at the counter said regretfully.

A loud growl left Demise's mouth before he leaned against the counter. "Do I look as though I care about what some little boy wants? My business here far exceeds his little worries," Demise snapped out.

"But sir, the patient barely moved into stable condition an hour ago-"

"I don't care! Seeing him could be the only thing that could protect him from having this happen to him again! Now, let me see the boy," Demise growled, his red eyes flashing dangerously.

"Lord Demise, I must insist-"

Growing tired of the woman's excuses, Demise straightened his posture, standing at full height. "Is that any way to talk to the next Demon King?"

The woman's eyes widened comically before, she stammered out, "D-d-demon king?! Y-you-"

"Yes, I am the next Demon King. Now, let me see the boy, woman," Demise said, his eyes narrowing.

Unable to say anything else, the woman grabbed the keys from underneath the counter and handed them over to Demise with trembling eyes. Demise took the keys and spared the woman one more glance before walking down the hall briskly.

Demise hadn't been lying when he said that he was the next Demon King. The current King was on the edge of death, bedridden in his quarters nearly all parts of the day. However, it hadn't been officially announced publicly that he would be the next successor. And with his current status as Demon Lord, he shouldn't have been allowed entry into the back quarters.

Glancing down at the key, Demise took in the room number before lifting his head up. A few yards away was the room that he was heading towards. Demise came to a stop in front of the door and he took the moment to gather his thoughts. His business that day dealt with a mysterious boy known as Ghirahim. The boy was an orphan and due to that status, he was declared one of the low class demons. It wouldn't be until he gained his full powers and family heritage that his status may change.

But from what he had heard about the boy, that full power wouldn't be so spectacular. The boy was said to be extremely frail, much smaller than the other demons of his age ground. And due to that small stature, he was often the victim of more attacks.

Which was why Demise was there that day. While the child was weak physically, perhaps too weak to be of any use to Demise when it came to battle, his intelligence was another story. Based on reports from past mentors of the boy, Ghirahim was far more superior than his peers when it came to his intelligence. His intelligence spanned in all directions, from history to mathematics to science and medicine. And if the rumors were true, the boy also constructed some of the battle strategies used by the generals in the demon army.

Ghirahim would be some use to him. And what was even better was that nobody seemed to see the full potential of the child except for him. If he was able to talk Ghirahim into coming to his side, he would be able to harness that mind and hone it until it was a weapon in of itself. And even better, Demise may have found a way to actually increase the boy's physical strength as well.

There was an old ritual that he found and he wasn't entirely sure if it would work. However, it was the only shot that he had at making sure that the boy remained in his grasp forever.

But he wasn't even sure why he was interested in the boy in the first place. Sure, the boy was smart, but that was the only thing that he had going for him. Nothing else was particularly…appealing. Although, he had seen a picture of the boy and he would admit, the boy was attractive, in a vulnerable way. But apparently, there was something inside of him that called out to the boy, for the boy.

He must have him.

Deciding that there was no use postponing the inevitable, Demise slipped the key inside of the lock and quickly unlocked the door. He opened the door and slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him.

Sitting on the bed directly across the room was Ghirahim. The boy was staring out of the window blankly, no expression on his face. There were bandages along his face and arms, although Demise knew that those weren't the only injuries. He had heard the entire report of what happened and the full extent of all his injuries. His eyes moved up and down the boy's body before he stopped at his hair. In the last picture that he had seen of the child, Demise knew that the boy had long hair. But now, it was cropped short. The edges were ragged and uneven. It had been forcibly cut.

Stepping forward, Demise slowly walked around the bed until he was a few feet away from the child. The boy didn't seem to notice that he was there yet, so Demise took more time to look at the boy's appearance.

Now that he was closer, Demise saw just how terrible the boy looked. His eyes were sunken in and there were dark circles present. His skin looked much grayer than usual. His hair fell limply against his head in strings. But what struck Demise was how empty the boy's eyes were. They were staring ahead to nothing, a glaze covering them.

Demise took a few more steps forward until he was standing right in front of the boy. Demise gazed down at Ghirahim with curious eyes. For a few moments, the boy didn't seem to notice that he was standing right in front of him. But soon, a small burst of recognition sparked in his eyes before it disappeared. Ghirahim tilted his head up and looked up at Demise with blank eyes.

"…who are you?" Ghirahim asked, his eyebrows slowly starting to furrow.

Demise said nothing, choosing instead to reach into the bag hanging from his hip and pull out a brown cloth. The cloth was wrapped around something tightly, hiding the object from view. The boy looked at the item in his hand before narrowing his eyes. Another spark went through Ghirahim's eyes, but this time, the spark didn't leave his eyes.

"Who are you?" Ghirahim asked again, but this time with a suspicious edge to his voice.

Demise's own eyes narrowed before he moved closer to the boy. The flinch that went though the boy's body didn't escape Demise's eyes. And although there was fear in the boy's eyes, there was also a bit of anger and defiance in there as well. And Demise had to admit, it was both surprising and amusing. It was good to see that the boy wasn't completely dead inside after the event, as tragic as it was.

"I'm the person who is offering you a new life," Demise answered before handing the child the item in his hand.

Ghirahim's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed in suspicion. "Oh really?" he asked sarcastically. "And how are you going to do that? By beating me to death? Or perhaps you're going to force me down and rape me like the sick fucks that you _elite_ demons are."

Demise was actually surprised with the amount of anger in the boy's voice. But he wouldn't be put off by some child. "Contrary to what you may believe boy, not all the elite demons are like the ones that attacked you."

Ghirahim let out a bitter laugh, pain shining through in his eyes. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

"Well, believe what you will. But I hold the key to making sure that this doesn't happen again. Whether or not you believe what I say is your own choice," Demise said, crossing his arms.

The boy stared at Demise for a few moments, not saying anything. Finally though, he gazed down at the wrapped item in his hands and slowly started to unwrap it. Once the brown cloth was completely off of the item, he stared at it in shock. There was a large diamond in his hands. However, it didn't look or feel like a regular diamond. For one, it was a blue shade and in the shape of a perfect diamond. Secondly, it almost seemed to be…vibrating with energy. Almost as though it was calling out to him.

Ghirahim bit his lip as he continued to stare at the diamond. Something about it was…familiar. He felt as though it belonged to him somehow.

"How familiar are you with bonding rituals, boy?" Demise asked suddenly.

Ghirahim's eyes widened at that statement, snapping his head up before he opened his mouth. "I…well, I am not as familiar with them as most are, but I've heard a few things about them…," he trailed off, unsure about how to respond.

Demise tilted his head up and moved back slightly, resting his back against the wall. "Well, tell me what you know. I will correct any misconceptions that you may have," Demise said.

The next few seconds were silent, save for Ghirahim and Demise's breathing. Finally though, the boy lifted his head and let out a deep breath. "Well…from what I've gathered from books…bonding rituals can range from simple ceremonies that demons perform with their mates to much more complicated ones that bond two demons' souls together.

Demise nodded his head, signaling the boy to keep going. Ghirahim continued on, pulling all the information that he had on bonding rituals. "Most bonding rituals nowadays mostly concern mates, although there is talk that some people perform some of the older rituals that involve…," Ghirahim trailed off, a small blush coming to his face.

"Involve what?" Demise asked, even though he was fully aware of what the boy was about to say.

"…Master and servant…," Ghirahim said softly, his eyes widening in realization.

"I see you've come to realize what I am presenting to you," Demise said, pushing himself off of the wall.

"You…you want me to be…your _servant_?!" Ghirahim asked in barely contained disgust.

Demise sighed in mild irritation, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You are just looking at the surface, boy. I have no need for a simple servant, considering my status. Delve deeper and figure out why I would want to bond with someone."

Ghirahim bent his head down and gazed at the diamond in his hands. He let one of his fingertips brush against the cool mineral, his eyes falling shut slightly. A curious sound left his mouth and he turned the diamond over to inspect it at all sides. The more that Ghirahim touched it, the more that the diamond seemed to vibrate and glow in his hands until finally, a bright light was emitted from it, floating over him and enveloping his entire body.

A gasp left Ghirahim's mouth and he looked with wide eyes at the bright light before cringing. He clenched his eyes shut and stumbled back, eyebrows flying up when he didn't feel the bed underneath him. Snapping his eyes open, Ghirahim looked around in shock. He was alone in a white plane. There was no bed, no window, and no room. He didn't even seem to be in the Demon Realm anymore.

"Hello?" Ghirahim asked softly, his voice echoing throughout the entire plane.

_Ghirahim…_

_…Ghirahim…_

Ghirahim snapped his head up in shock, his eyes looking all around. He thought that he heard something, someone calling him. But all that he saw was white. Turning around, he looked around again, hoping to find something. But same as before, he saw nothing but white blankness.

_Ghira honey…it's me baby…_

Ghirahim's heart nearly leaped out of his chest and he gasped loudly. "…Mother!?"

At once, an orb of bright light floated down from above, hovering around in front of Ghirahim's face. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes widening, if that was even possible. "Mother…you…what is happening?"

The orb morphed and changed shape, slowly gaining shape and volume. After a few minutes, the orb had morphed into the shape of a young, demon woman. Ghirahim's mother. She had long, flowing white hair that reached her lower back. A gentle smile was on her face, but her eyes were still as sharp and piercing as Ghirahim remembered them to be.

Ghirahim's mother smiled gently, looking at her son in pride. _"Ghirahim…I'm so proud of you."_

Shock went thought Ghirahim's veins. "W-what?! You are? B-but why? I-I haven't done anything!"

The woman chuckled and shook her head. _"Oh, but you have. You've finally come across your destiny and instead of hiding, you're accepted it with open arms."_

"D-destiny?! What are you talking about, mother?" Ghirahim asked incredulously.

Ghirahim's mother just chuckled softly and brought a hand up to her son's face, resting her had on his cheek softly._ "I can not tell you too much, lest things be changed. But, all I can say is that you can trust Demise. He will offer you something that is absolutely priceless. I would highly recommend that you accepted his offer. But no matter what you choose Ghirahim, I will always be proud of you."_

"Mother…," Ghirahim trailed off, staring at his mother with surprised eyes.

Ghirahim's mother placed her hand on her son's cheek, caressing the skin softly. _"You've grown into a fine young man. I know that Demise will take good care of you."_

Confusion overtook Ghirahim's body and he fully anticipated asking his mother about what she was talking about. But before he could even do so, a blinding light shined around him. Ghirahim watched as his mother slowly dissipated into the bright light, partials of light flying up into the air. His breath hitched with unshed tears as he watched his mother disappear in front of his eyes. His throat tightened up with emotion and he bit his lip harshly, clenching his eyes shut to keep himself from crying.

His mother had been brutally murdered in front of him when he was much smaller. He couldn't remember exactly what age he had been, but obviously he had been old enough to remember what happened. He couldn't exactly remember the murderer though. All that Ghirahim knew was that he had been of high status, one of the elite. And apparently, his father had owed a debt to the elite demons, which had transferred over to his mother when he mysteriously disappeared.

Which was where his hatred of elite demons stemmed from. Although, something was nagging at him.

The man that had snuck into his room was obviously of the elite, if his clothing told anything. But for some reason, Ghirahim didn't feel any type of hatred for the man like he normally did for those of his class. Instead, he almost felt…content. Almost as though he was meant to act that way.

What did it all mean?

* * *

"Boy. Wake up."

Ghirahim's eyes snapped open immediately. His vision was slightly blurry, although he could make out a black figure in front of him. Heart starting to pound, Ghirahim gasped sharply and swung his arm out quickly to try and hit the person away from him. But before his arms could even make a hit, his wrist was caught in a large hand and slammed back down against the bed over his head.

Eyes widening, Ghirahim watched with bated breath as his vision slowly started to clear up until he could clearly see the person hovering right over him. Breath catching for a moment, Ghirahim let out a relieved breath before slumping back against the bed.

It was Demise.

"What are you doing in my bed?!" Ghirahim snapped out in annoyance.

Demise's eyes narrowed slightly and his other hand moved down until it grasped Ghirahim's other wrist, moving it up until it was right beside his other trapped arm. His eyes moved up and down the boy's body, taking in the lanky figure. His lips turned downward and his eyes narrowed some more.

Ghirahim saw the frown as Demise looked down at his body and Ghirahim tensed his body before scowling. "What? What's wrong with my body? It's not good enough to look at or something?" he snapped out.

Sighing in irritation, Demise leaned down until he was right in front of Ghirahim's face. "You know boy, your little attitude is getting quite old now. So, I recommend that you cease your little comments before I make you."

Ghirahim opened his mouth to protest, only to find himself unable to do so. His throat tightened up at the prospect of even talking back and if he thought about attacking, his chest would constrict to painful levels. It was almost as if he was being controlled from the inside out.

"W-what…?" Ghirahim asked, mostly to himself.

Demise let out a rumble in his chest, gazing down at Ghirahim with recognition in his eyes. "I see you've come to understand now, boy. You can't rebel against me. It is against your will."

Ghirahim's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Now, I'm sure you can figure it out by yourself. Put that brain of your's to work," Demise said with a small smirk on his face, his grip tightening on Ghirahim's wrists.

Frowning slightly, Ghirahim racked his mind for some kind of hint. There was absolutely no reason for him to be acting so submissive towards the demon at all. In fact, he had never even met Demise in person before. Sure, he had heard of the Demon Lord before - who hasn't? But that still didn't explain anything. He delved deeper into his thoughts and memories, trying to dig out something that would jog his mind in the right direction.

His thoughts were racing a mile a minute, trying to locate the one thing that could have possibly affected his personality. His eyes flickered around the room as best as they could in his position, trying to take in every detail. His eyes passed by the blue diamond on the nightstand before they shot back towards it.

Ghirahim froze in shock and at once, all the memories came tumbling back. Unwrapping the diamond. Holding it gently while it vibrated with a contained excitement. Then, a bright light enveloping him. Seeing his mother. Talking to his mother.

_But, all I can say is that you can trust Demise. He will offer you something that is absolutely priceless. _

His mother had obviously known something about what was going on, if her statement said anything. But the question was, what? What did Demise offer? What was so priceless about it? And why had his mother been so secretive about it?

_"How familiar are you with bonding rituals, boy?" _

That question had been peculiar when Demise had asked it. But even more peculiar was his answer…

_"I have no need for a simple servant, considering my status. Delve deeper and figure out why I would want to bond with someone."_

Obviously, the type of bond that Demise was searching for was something that he couldn't get with someone else. By the looks of the diamond, it was something extremely rare. Demise didn't seem the type of man who would lightly hand something like that over to another person over a simple bond. No, he sought a type of bond that would be eternal, immortal. And as it seemed, the bond was the same with Ghirahim as well. He had never acted like this before. He felt as though he wanted to just lay back and…and let Demise completely take control.

_No!_ It was completely against his character to do something like that! He wouldn't bend over for some demon to walk all over him! That would make him weak, and he could be weak around demons like him. Demons like him were dangerous and looked to dominate weaker demons, like himself.

But despite what his mind was shouting out to him, his body and heart were slowly submitting underneath Demise. Ghirahim clenched his teeth tightly before shutting his eyes, tears prickling at the edges.

"What is weakness to one person, is not weakness to another."

Ghirahim shivered as he felt Demise's lips pressing against his cheek. The demon continued to whisper things underneath his breath, his breath brushing over his cheeks and neck.

"I can make you strong," Demise whispered in Ghirahim's ear.

"I can make it so that you're able to get revenge against those who have hurt you," Demise licked his lobe before nibbling it softly.

"I can give you all the power in the world."

"I can make you powerful."

"You will never be weak again. You will never be taken advantage of again. You will be the one who will destroy your enemies instead of the other way around."

"Just accept the bond. I will lend you my power, and you will lend me your body and mind," Demise said huskily.

Ghirahim's mouth fell open and his moaned softly, turning his head to the side. He didn't…he couldn't…

He _shouldn't_…

…

But he did.

He did. He wanted it. He wanted to be powerful. Strong._ Deadly_.

"…yes…," Ghirahim whispered softly.

"What was that, boy?" Demise growled out, a deadly sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I will bond with you. I want it. I want to make those who have hurt me pay. I want their _blood_," Ghirahim hissed out, his eyes gleaming.

Demise smirked widely before he leaned back down towards Ghirahim's face. "Good," he said before pulling Ghirahim into a rough kiss.

Ghirahim groaned at the roughness, but didn't push Demise off at all. It felt right. The kiss felt absolutely right. His heart, mind, and body all seemed to agree with that. But before the kiss could get any more intense, Demise broke it and moved down towards Ghirahim's neck.

Suddenly, large incisors sliced into his neck, digging deep into the flesh. Ghirahim couldn't stop a scream from leaving his lips, echoing through the room. His back arched at the pain and his eyes stared at the ceiling with pain-glazed eyes.

The pain was excruciating. It felt as though his veins were burning. The heat in his body was steadily climbing to uncomfortable temperatures. And the more that Demise continued to sink his fangs deep inside of Ghirahim, the worse that the heat and pain felt.

But along with that pain was something else. Something…exhilarating. It was almost as though he was on a cloud. His head felt fuzzy and a high was slowly taking over his body. And after a while, the pain and heat morphed into something that he had never experienced before.

Demise removed himself from Ghirahim's neck, lapping at the blood on his lips and the boy's neck. He gazed down at his handiwork and smirked. A large mark was present on the boy's neck, signaling his ownership of Ghirahim. Later on, he would make another mark, one that would be permanent out for everyone to see. But he would ponder on that one later. Right now, he wanted to see the boy's transformation.

Ghirahim's back continued to arch, even as Demise drew away from his body. Now, the pain was completely gone, replaced by a pleasurable buzz in his veins. It echoed throughout his body, giving him a new sense of exhilaration. He had never felt so alive in his life before. It was as though he was a new person. Clenching his fists shut, Ghirahim shivered as he felt energy coursing though his body. Energy crackled around his body, causing him to moan loudly.

Snapping his eyes open, Ghirahim looked straight up at Demise._ 'Master'_, his mind supplied. Yes, his Master. He was the one who gave him his powers. This new energy. This wonderful feeling in his veins. He had never felt it before. Well, he had, but not at such an intense level. He felt all powerful.

Grinning maliciously, Ghirahim bucked his hips up towards Demise. "Master," Ghirahim whispered seductively.

Demise growled loudly before moving down and locking lips with Ghirahim for a second time. The kiss quickly escalated from rough pressing of lips to biting and growling. Demise bit at Ghirahim's bottom lip while the boy moaned loudly, twisting around in his Master's grip.

Breaking the kiss again, Demise released one of Ghirahim's wrists so that he could move his hand down to grab his new slave's hair, pulling it out of his small face. Letting his eyes take in the boy's appearance, Demise locked gazes with him. "You're mine now, Ghirahim."

**A/N:**** I do have to admit guys, this is definitely my favorite fanfiction that I've written in a while. I'm a bit proud of myself for actually thinking this one up, even though the pacing of this story could have gone much better.**

**I think I should write more stories with actual plots in them. **


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